Just Mercy: A Novel (10 page)

FIFTEEN

Annamaria tapped her fingers on the steering wheel and her foot on the floor. Here they were, stuck on MoPac—a virtual parking lot as far as the eye could see—and no one to blame but herself. Whatever had possessed her to think that rush-hour traffic would be any less of a nightmare than it was every other Friday? How could she have made such a mistake tonight of all nights, after she’d already had to wait a week for this chance to talk to Mom because she’d apparently been so mad about the governor’s stupid decision that she couldn’t even talk about it on the phone. Now that Mom had finally seen the light, Annamaria didn’t want to wait another minute to see her anger for herself. Whoever would have guessed?

“Everyone gets to go but me, Mom.” Patty looked up from her iPhone with a scowl.

“I said no and I mean no.”

“But, why Mom?”

“Stop whining. You know why. A sleepover at Kitty’s house is just an excuse for boys to sneak over in the middle of the night. You know I’m right.”

“You think you’re right about everything.”

“I usually am. And don’t go dragging Gran into this. Not tonight.”

Patty threw her body against the passenger-side door and hid her face behind her long hair. Annamaria clicked on the door’s safety lock switch.

Just then, a car behind them set off a cacophony of honking. “What the hell?” Annamaria yelled as she leaned on her horn with one hand and shook her other hand, middle finger extended upward, out the window. Patty looked over at her, grinning.

“Never mind,” she said. “And don’t you be doing that, young lady.”

“Like I’m fixin’ to.”

“Stop it with the language, already. I won’t have you talking like a Texan.”

“But I am a Texan. Weren’t you the one that born me here?”

“You could at least act like an educated one.” Annamaria rolled her eyes, thanking her lucky stars that even though she’d lived in Austin most of her life, she had been born in the Midwest thanks to her dad’s early academic career and therefore would never be considered a real Texan.

“Whatever,” Patty said.

People started driving their cars over the grassy strip between the freeway lanes and heading back in the opposite direction. “See that?” she said. “Another example of Texans’
aint nobody gone tell me what to do
attitude right there. Don’t ever let me see you crossing the median like that.”

“So, like, I should just drive in the ditch like you?”

Annamaria jutted her chin out, just like Patty’s, and kept driving on the shoulder until she reached the next exit, where she escaped the freeway and took West Thirty-Fifth Street the rest of the way to her folks’ house. It had taken forty-five minutes to drive a measly five miles. How ridiculous was that? Well, better late than never. She’d waited years to connect with her mom; she guessed she could wait a few minutes longer.

***

“Glad you could make it,” Fin said as he climbed into Chuck’s car. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“Your folks know I’m coming, right?”

“I left a message. Besides, you’re like family.”

“Has your mom calmed down after what happened?”

“I hope so. She did apologize on my voice mail.”

“So,” Chuck said with a knowing smile, “I’m your buffer in case she’s still mad.”

Fin smiled back. How handsome Chuck looked in that short-sleeved magenta button-down shirt and those tan slacks; what a contrast to his own faded Save the Planet tee shirt and worn jeans. Mom would be glad to see Chuck tonight. She always was. Of all his friends, Chuck was by far her favorite. He thought about the time she went on and on about what a handsome couple they would make. Those were her exact words. At least she never did that again.

Annamaria, on the other hand, had on more than one occasion come right out and asked them what were they waiting for, why not admit they were a couple. Chuck thought it was hilarious. But Fin felt a twinge of sadness whenever his sister said that, which he hid by laughing and telling her to stop worrying about his love life and think about her own—to which she countered that she did not have one of her own and had no intention of looking for one. Which, of course, made him feel sad all over again, this time for her.

When they got to his folks’ house, his mom greeted them both with warm hugs. “I’m sorry again, sweetie,” she said, giving Fin an extra squeeze. “I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you like that.”

“I understand, Mom. We’re cool. No problem.” He kissed her cheek and ruffled her hair, feeling the coarseness of it on his fingers. She laughed and slapped his hand away good-naturedly, then patted the short strands back into place. Things were right between them again. If only he could convince her now, with the governor’s reprieve, to help him get Raelynn Blackwell’s death sentence commuted altogether.

“Annamaria’s stuck on MoPac,” his mom said, “but she said to go ahead, and dinner is ready.”

“Uh-oh,” Fin whispered to Chuck as they walked, arm in arm, to the dining room, ”I have a feeling we better watch out for my sister tonight.”

SIXTEEN

The car screeched to a stop at the curb. Annamaria turned off the ignition and yanked the door open.

“Put that phone away,” she said, “and no texting at the dinner table.”

Patty ambled out of the car as if she actually might get a move on, but no, there she was, down on the ground picking up God knows what.

“Look at all these pecans, Mom. The squirrels gone get ’em for sure.”

“Stop dawdling.” Annamaria motioned with a flick of her hand for her daughter to hurry up as she rushed up the long walk leading to the familiar reddish-brown brick house.

“It’s all yellow.” Patty ran her hand over the parched grass.

“No excuse for it. They have a perfectly good sprinkler system.”

“Gran says water’s for the fishes.”

It was just like Mom to see it that way instead of admitting how pathetic the lawn looked next to the lush green of all the others on the quiet tree-lined street. She wondered if her mom even appreciated what a delight it had been for them as kids to play in the soft, thick grass, to feel it tickle their bare toes. But, irritated as she was, Annamaria brushed aside her irritation because tonight was going to be different.

Patty ran up to the porch and, without knocking or ringing the doorbell, pushed open the heavy mahogany door. Everyone was in the dining room already.

“Hey, like the black polish,” Fin said with a wink as his niece sat down at her usual place across from him at the table. “Did you do your toes, too?”

“Don’t encourage her.” Annamaria rolled her eyes.

With a goofy grin, Patty fluttered her fingers in the air, obviously enjoying her uncle’s approval. Annamaria shook her head; so much for her assiduous attempt to pretend she hadn’t noticed the black nails. Well, her kid had attitude. She had to give her that.

“Here you go, everyone.”

Bernadette walked in with an oversized pan of homemade lasagna that filled the room with the spicy smell of garlic, oregano, beef, and tomato blended to luscious perfection. To a chorus of oohs and aahs, she lowered the pan onto a cast-iron trivet without spilling a single drop of the bubbling sauce onto the bouquet of red carnations or the red and white-checkered tablecloth.

“Look! Gran made all your favorites, Mom,” Patty said. “Good thing we got here in time.”

“We’re not
that
late.”

“Like, look at your watch, Mom.”

Annamaria was too busy ruminating over why her mom had made lasagna to argue with Patty. It wasn’t a summertime dish, and it was so labor-intensive that Mom only made it once a year—on Annamaria’s birthday, come to think of it. And today wasn’t anywhere near her birthday. Could this be her mom’s way of apologizing, her way of saying she wished she’d listened to Annamaria’s warning not to trust Raelynn Blackwell? Was she admitting that she’d been conned? But an apology wasn’t necessary; it was enough to know that her mom was furious, that she now understood what she’d gotten herself into. But why, if her mom was upset, was she working so hard to make things pleasant? She must be trying to cover up or contain her simmering rage, probably didn’t want to upset the others. Well, not to worry. Her anger would show itself soon enough. Everyone knew she was incapable of masking her feelings for long.

“You didn’t have to do all this, Mom,” Annamaria said with a significant smile and nod meant to let Bernadette know that she understood.

To Annamaria’s consternation, Patty reached for the wooden salad bowl and plopped a big helping of lettuce, tomatoes, radishes, and cucumbers onto her plate. What the hell? No matter how much she nagged at her about eating vegetables, why was it that her daughter would only eat the ones grown in her gran’s garden? Fin reached for the spatula then—a signal for them all to pass their plates over to him, his chest puffed up like he was special because Mom had placed the pan closest to him.
Well, enjoy the moment,
Annamaria said to him in her head.
It won’t be long now before you and everyone else will see that Mom has finally come to her senses, that she now sees what I saw all along.

***

The pleasing sounds brought a smile to Bernadette’s face: the clink of forks on plates—sounds of chewing, swallowing—random utterances of satisfaction—soft shuffling of feet—Patty licking the butter from the garlic bread off her fingers. They were the sounds of appreciation she always relished, and tonight they had the added effect of lessening her apprehension, if only for a bit, about the dinner conversation they were about to have. She couldn’t believe so much had happened in such a short period of time. There was a lot to tell the kids. She pretty much knew what to expect; Fin would be pleased to hear about what happened with Rae, Annamaria would be angry, and Patty would be curious. Everyone would be upset about Marty’s news.

Lines pierced Annamaria’s forehead as she leaned forward, her hands resting on each side of her plate, like a cat ready to pounce. Bernadette wondered if it was her imagination or if her daughter was actually sitting there scrutinizing her every move instead of eating. When Marty coughed and cleared his throat, she turned away from Annamaria to give him a smile of encouragement. He was nervous, she could tell. She nodded at him, a silent message that it was okay, that they were in this together. He tapped his glass with a spoon and cleared his throat again.

“Your mom and I have something to tell you,” he said.

“First, I want to apologize,” Bernadette said. When she saw a smile widen on Annamaria’s face, she had the crazy idea that maybe her daughter had been anticipating this moment, that she might already know what was coming. But, of course, that was impossible.

“I should have talked to you before now,” she continued. “At least on the phone. I’m sure you’re wondering what’s going on.”

“Hey, no problem,” Annamaria said. “I totally understand. I was just as pissed off as you, Mom. Still am. I can’t believe what Governor Kopecky did. And that old Judge Groundtree, well…”

“Let me finish, Annie,” Bernadette said.

“Of course. I just want you to know it’s okay, Mom.”

Bernadette raised her hand and blurted out her news. “I went back to Gatesville.” Her tone carried the implicit warning that if anyone objected, they shouldn’t even try to go there.

Annamaria’s mouth fell open. Obviously, this was not what she expected to hear.

“What happened?” Fin sprang up in his seat, all excited.

“It was good I went,” Bernadette said.

Annamaria slumped back in her chair.

“Rae and I talked for a long time.”

“Rae? Did you say
Rae
?” Annamaria shot up, lurched forward.

“She didn’t know about the letter.”

“Oh, and I suppose she told you that.” Annamaria snorted.

“I believe her.”

“Big surprise.” Annamaria said with a grunt. She gritted her teeth, covered her ears with her hands, and shot daggers at Fin. She wanted to wipe the crooked grin off his face.

Bernadette, anticipating that Annamaria was about to make a scene, decided that ignoring her would be the best way to head it off. She turned to face the others, leaving Annamaria to quietly sulk as she filled in the details of her meeting with Rae.

“I was wrong about her,” she finally concluded with a sigh.

“What happens now, Gran?” Patty asked.

“They should let her spend the rest of her life in prison,” Fin said. “Give her a chance to atone for what she did.”

“Right.” Annamaria muttered and rolled her eyes. She shoved her plate of untouched lasagna toward the middle of the table.

“I feel different about Rae now,” Bernadette said.

“Could you please stop calling her that?” Annamaria pushed her fingers into her temples hard enough, it seemed, to bore a hole in her head.

“No child should be treated the way Rae was.”

“Yeah, yeah. We know all her excuses, Mom. Abuse. Neglect. Yadda, yadda, yadda.”

“Why didn’t she run away?” Patty said. “Like, that’s what I’d do.”

“She wouldn’t leave her brothers and sister. She ran away from several foster homes later.”

“Why?”

“Enough with the questions, Patty.” Annamaria dismissed her daughter with a wave of her hand.

“It’s a sad story,” Bernadette said. “She was sexually abused in two foster homes. After that, no matter where they placed her, she ran.”

“Everyone failed her,” Fin said. “Everyone.”

Bernadette shook her head as Annamaria slammed her fists on the table and stalked out of the room. It was just the reaction she’d expected.

***

Unable to listen to them anymore, Annamaria stumbled from the dining room, her head spinning and her breath coming in short spurts. In the front hallway, she fell back against the closet door. Her legs were shaking. Was she the only one who could see how Mom had been totally taken in by that monster, to the point that she’d even given her a nickname? What the hell? Did she think they were good friends now or something? Why couldn’t she see that sympathizing with Veronica’s murderer was the same as excusing her?

An army of goose bumps attacked her bare arms and made her shiver. She rummaged through the hall closet, slapping aside the winter coats and jackets, wanting to punish them for being so crammed together. Her fingers landed on the soft angora of what was once Veronica’s favorite cardigan. She couldn’t believe her mom had left it in the closet all these years. With trembling fingers, she slipped the sweater from the hanger and buried her face in its light-blue folds. She inserted one hand into one sleeve and the other hand into the other sleeve, then pulled the sweater on, held it tight against her body with her eyes closed, and breathed in her sister’s essence.

***

Bernadette started to stand up but then seemed to change her mind. Fin figured she must have decided to wait for Annamaria to come back to the table on her own, so he decided that he, too, should wait. But as the minutes ticked away, he worried that his sister might not come back at all, that maybe she’d even left the house.

“Sit tight,” he said as he picked up the lasagna pan. “Chuck and I will clear the table and get the dessert.” He kissed his mom on her cheek—his way of letting her know he was glad she’d come around about Raelynn Blackwell, that he always knew she would.

On his way to the kitchen, he caught a glimpse of Annamaria out in the hallway. She looked like she was crying. He put the pan on the counter and went to her.

“You okay, sis?”

“I’m tired is all. I was up until three o’clock this morning working, okay?”

“Right.”

“Mom’s too naïve for Patty’s good, Fin. I have to protect her.”

He knew she was scared that what happened to Veronica could happen to Patty, too, but there was no point in telling her he understood that. She would deny it, wouldn’t even listen to him.

“Come on, let’s clean up,” he said as he steered her back toward the dining room.

Annamaria picked up the empty salad bowl and breadbasket as
if
she was trying to pull herself together. It pained Fin to see the way she avoided looking at their mom.

“I know you don’t agree with her,” he said once they were in the kitchen, “but you’ve got to admit what Mom’s doing is pretty darn amazing.”

“Getting all buddy-buddy with that monster is just plain wrong, Fin. It’s crazy. And downright disrespectful to Veronica.”

“Au contraire, mon amour. Mom is doing just what Veronica would want her to do.” He handed a plate to Chuck, who set about loading the dishwasher with self-conscious deliberation.

“So now you think you have the inside track on Veronica’s wishes.”

“Ah, but I do. Believe me, Veronica is very happy with Mom right now.” Fin knew he sounded flippant, but he didn’t mean to be. He was just trying to lighten Annamaria’s spirits. He felt sorry for her.

“Can you imagine what other people would think if they heard Mom talking like this?” she said. “I can sure tell you what people at my office would think.”

“That’s what you’re worried about? What other people think about Mom?”

“The governor should reconsider.”

“She made the right decision,” he said, “just maybe not for the right reason. Come on, let’s not argue. What’s done is done.”

“It should be done. But it’s not, is it?”

Fin took a deep breath. What his sister needed right now was a hug, not a fight. He put his hand on her shoulder, and when she didn’t flinch or turn away he moved closer. But then he felt the soft angora of Veronica’s familiar sweater, and it drove him to his knees.

“Please try to understand,” he whispered as he grabbed onto the counter to pull himself up. “I promised Veronica.”

***

While the others were cleaning up in the kitchen, Marty instigated a debate with Patty about the quality of education today while Bernie silently observed.

“You have to admit,” Marty said, “the system has improved considerably in both technology and sophistication.”

“School is for shit, Grandpa,” Patty said. “You’re just too old and out of touch to know it.”

He smiled, captivated by Patty’s spunk, so much like Veronica. He lobbed one question after another at her, sticking to his original position not because he thought it was the correct one but as a way to help his granddaughter hone her critical thinking skills—and, he had to admit, to keep himself from worrying about what the rest of the evening might have in store for all of them.

When Annamaria, Fin, and Chuck came back into the dining room, Bernie started talking as if there had been no break between dinner and dessert. Marty didn’t object, grateful for a reprieve before it was his turn.

“Rae wants to see her mother before she dies,” Bernie said. “I’m going to help find her.”

“What the hell!” Annamaria’s eyes flashed. “This is just unbelievable… un–be–lieve–able!” Her hand flew up and almost tipped over a water glass.

Marty held his breath. No matter how many times he’d witnessed Annamaria’s anger before, he’d never seen her this livid. He withdrew the bowl of spumoni ice cream he had been just about to pass to her out of fear that she might throw it back at him or onto the floor.

“It
is
pretty unbelievable,” Bernie said, “and it’s the right thing to do.”